


i'm gonna help you swim

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “You weren’t picking up your phone,” Ben says.“I haven’t picked up my phone all week,” Sammy tries not to sound too annoyed. It’s good to see Ben – well, sort of. It’s awful, but Sammy has missed him. It’s been so long since they’ve gone more than a day without seeing each other, let alone all week.“It’s Wednesday,” Ben says stubborn as ever. “We go to Troy’s to watch The Office on Wednesdays.”Sammy has enough heartbreak in his life without Ben looking at him like that, with that quiet hopefulness that nothing has changed between them. And God, Sammy doesn’t want things to change, but they have, irrevocably, and they can’t pretend otherwise.





	i'm gonna help you swim

**Author's Note:**

> I was meant to see Jon Lovett live and in person tonight but unfortunately, I live in fucking Minnesota, so here we are.
> 
> Also, I was outed this week in a much less horrendous and more subtle way than my boy Sammy Stevens, but it's fucking me up and I'm working through my emotions with fiction. 
> 
> Set after Episode 68, the holiest of episodes where a supernatural podcast managed to create the most compelling gay narrative I've ever come across. Yes I'm in hell but it's very beautiful here. Hope you enjoy!

Sammy’s sitting on his window ledge.

Technically, his window ledge is not big enough to sit on, especially for someone with as long of legs as he has. But he’s figured out a system of getting a dining room chair to sit on and prop his legs out the window from and from there he can usually slide himself onto the window ledge and let his legs dangle out.

He lives on the second floor of his building, so it’s not like he’d die if he fell. But there’s a kind of danger inherent in sitting there having very little supporting him.

Sammy’s place in Los Angeles had some big fucking windows.

He’d never sat on window ledges back then – Jack was usually the one who’d let his legs dangle over the edge. He’d been dangerous like that, in some weird, unnamable way. Not dangerous in a reckless way, but dangerous in an everyday way, like he just wasn’t aware of his own mortality.

Sammy fumbles with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket for a second before managing to extract it without topping out of the window and into the grassy courtyard of his apartment complex for the viewing pleasure of his neighborhoods.

He’s been smoking too much this week. He’d feel guilty about it except for the fact that he’s lost the ability to feel guilty about anything other than the obvious right now. He’s too attached to his misery to welcome any other feelings inside, even guilt.

 Guilt’s usually very welcome in Sammy’s mindscape, but not right now. Not about cigarettes.

He tries to light one, but he doesn’t get off that easy. The door slams behind him and he drops the pack down, down, down onto the landing beneath him.

Maybe Jack’s really dead and his ghost knocked the cigarettes out of Sammy’s hands.

His ghost, not his apparition – Sammy can’t bear to think of Jack in King Falls terms. If Jack has to be dead, then deserves to be a ghost. He deserves to not be lumped in with the rest.

“Sammy…what are you doing?”

 _Shit, it’s Ben,_ Sammy braces himself. He hasn’t seen Ben since that disastrous evening in the studio, and isn’t keen on seeing him right now. Not just because he doesn’t want to have another argument about staying, but because there is most absolutely going to be some change, no matter how imperceptible, in how Ben treats him now.

Sammy’s not ready for that change.

“Trying to smoke,” Sammy grumbles at him, window ledge too small for him to actually turn around to properly face Ben, so he gingerly sliding back inside and onto his chair so he can turn around and properly glare behind him.

Ben has a serious expression on his face at first, but he breaks into a tentative little smile when he sees Sammy’s system.

“Dude. I know I tell a lot of old jokes, but do you literally have to use a chair to get yourself onto the window?”

“I’d like to see you try without it,” Sammy snipes reflexively as he pulls his legs inside and swings them up from the chair for Ben to steamroll past.

Ben, because he’s an annoying little shit, climbs through the window with only the minor difficulty of readjusting his shoulder.

He gives Sammy a winning smile.

“Well, you’re short,” Sammy mutters under his breath.

Ben swings a leg back inside, but winces as he ducks back into the apartment. “It’s a tight fit, I’ll give you that. But what the hell are you doing sitting in your window smoking? Don’t you know how bad that is for you?”

“All the shit that’s gone down this week and you want to talk about me smoking?” Sammy gives him a look. Ben blinks sheepishly up at him. “How’d you get into my apartment, anyway?”

“You gave me a key a long time ago in case of emergencies,” Ben says, and Sammy immediately curses his former self’s judgment. But after Emily was abducted and Ben was too paranoid to breathe and constantly worried about everyone around him and their safety, Sammy had a key made for his apartment to give to Ben in the hopes that having Sammy trust him with that would be enough to get him to calm down.

“What’s the emergency?” Sammy says dryly, knowing perfectly well there isn’t one.

“You weren’t picking up your phone,” Ben says.

“I haven’t picked up my phone all week,” Sammy tries not to sound too annoyed. It’s good to see Ben – well, sort of. It’s awful, but Sammy has missed him. It’s been so long since they’ve gone more than a day without seeing each other, let alone all week.

“It’s Wednesday,” Ben says stubborn as ever. “We go to Troy’s to watch The Office on Wednesdays.”

Sammy has enough heartbreak in his life without Ben looking at him like that, with that quiet hopefulness that nothing has changed between them. And God, Sammy doesn’t want things to change, but they have, irrevocably, and they can’t pretend otherwise.

“I can’t –” Sammy starts helplessly, but Ben cuts him off.

“If you’re really leaving – which I refuse to accept, by the way – but if you are, then we don’t have a lot of time to finish all nine seasons, so we’d better not skip a day. Troy’s done all the math, and we have to watch six episodes today if we want to finish by May.”

Sammy wishes Ben would stop looking at him like that, with his big brown eyes and tiny hopeful smile and general air of vibrant and anxious energy.

“I can’t just pretend nothing’s changed,” Sammy tries to explain. “That it’s still the same between us.”

“It is the same between us,” Ben says, and Sammy wishes he would just stop, because it won’t be long before Sammy’s able to feel guilt again and then this is going to turn messy. “Troy loves you. I love you. And we don’t have to pretend anything. We can talk about it, or we can talk about something else. Whatever you want, man. But it’s been a whole week since I’ve seen you, and I can’t handle that.”

“It’s nothing against you,” Sammy tries to articulate, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t…not with anyone right now. Now that everyone’s heard…”

“I’m so sorry,” Ben’s face broke, eyes blinking rapidly. “I didn’t mean – the switchboard, I swear I thought it was broken – I didn’t want everyone to…”

“It’s not your fault,” Sammy tells him, because Ben remains the only thing in his life that isn’t horrifically fucked.

“No, but – but that was supposed to be private, between just me and you, but now everyone’s…” Ben trails off, flapping his hands, and Sammy can’t help but ask.

“Is everyone talking about me?”

“Not everyone,” Ben says, but his voice is high-pitched and wishy-washy so Sammy knows he’s embellishing. “Emily told me to tell you she loves you and is so, so sorry about Frickard. Troy started crying when he tried to talk about you and said you were his best friend about thirty thousand times. Archie told me tell you that he’s very sorry for hitting on you and if he knew you had a boyfriend, he’d never have done it.”

Ben cracks a smile, waiting for a laugh. Sammy can’t help but oblige him with a little chuckle, because Ben can usually get whatever he wants from Sammy if the cost isn’t too steep.

“I wish it had just been between you and me,” Ben’s far too genuine and emotional for Sammy to handle right now, but he also hasn’t seen Ben in a week so he’s going to let it slide. “Too much of our lives have been live on the radio – that should’ve been just you and me. I’m so –”

“If you apologize again,” Sammy threatens half-jokingly, but he has to resist the urge to ruffle Ben’s stupid curly hair. “Me, too. I wish I had told you – forever ago. But then fucking Frickard…”

Ben seems to realize that Sammy has more to say, for he just stares up at him expectantly, eyes willing Sammy to keep talking.

Sammy knows that he’s being tricked into an emotional conversation that he doesn’t want to have, but he’s been alone with his thoughts for over a week now and it’s eating at him, just a little. And it won’t be long before he’ll be gone and no one will have to listen to him ever again.

“I wanted to tell you on my terms, in my way, and now I’ll never get to – you’ll have always heard it first from Frickard, and then broadcast live on air. No one’s ever…I’ve never told anyone, and now I’ll never get to. Because everyone knows. And it’s outside my control.”

“You never told _anyone_?” Ben asks. “I mean – obviously, you didn’t tell anyone about what had happened. In King Falls. But about…you know…I mean, you and Jack told Lily, right?”

Sammy’s never said any of this out loud before. The words taste a bit like sandpaper in his mouth.

“Jack told Lily,” Sammy’s tongue is leaden. “I….I mean, I knew he was going to tell her. But personally? No, I’ve never told anyone.”

“Tell me,” Ben says without missing a beat, his eyes lighting up in that way of his that makes Sammy think of Jack every goddamn time. “Seriously, Sammy. Tell me.”

“Tell you what? You already know everything,” Sammy can’t help but laugh at the look on Ben’s face.

“Tell me anyway,” Ben persists, a smile growing on his face, a real one. “C’mon, Sammy, please. I promise it won’t hurt nearly as bad as you think.”

“Oh, fine,” Sammy relents, overcome with affection for his best friend even in this mess of a life he wishes wasn’t his. “Hey, Ben?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” Ben’s grin is blinding in spite of it all.

“I’m gay,” Sammy says in a rush of fear and adrenaline. Without warning, tears prick his eyes. “I…I’ve never said that out loud. Not ever. I….”

Ben’s hugging him before Sammy can really process anything else. His instinct is to push Ben away, but he holds on tightly. He’s not going to have this for much longer.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me,” Ben says into Sammy’s shoulder. “I’m sure just coming out is bad enough without having to explain your tragic backstory along with it. But I’m really glad I know now. I love you, man.”

“Love you, too,” Sammy says. It comes out raspy with emotion.

“I think I knew,” Ben says as he releases Sammy from his iron hold, “that you weren’t into girls.”

“Really?” Sammy asks. Years ago that would’ve made him paranoid about exactly how gay his behavior was and how he could hide it immediately, but he doesn’t feel that with Ben. With Ben, that’s not an insult. It’s a testament to Ben’s friendship. “How?”

“Remember….God, maybe two years ago? Emily wanted to go to a movie in Big Pine, but we were both dancing around each other awkwardly so I suggested that you come, too. And she said she’d invite a friend for you? And I told you about it – the look on your face, man…”

“Oh, God,” Sammy says, almost laughing at the memory. Ben had practically begged him to come along on this pseudo double date that they weren’t calling a double date because Ben and Emily were hopeless. He relented only because it was Ben who asked him.

“You were _affronted_ ,” Ben giggles. “But you still came. You glared at me every five minutes, but you still came. I made you have a beard without even knowing it! But I think after that night, I knew that we’d never be having a conversation about girls. I just hadn’t connected the two things in my head yet.”

“Oh, come on, Ben,” Sammy shakes his head. “It’s not like _you’re_ the type to have a conversation about _girls._ Conversations about Emily? Absolutely. But never _girls_. Chet Sebastian has conversations about _girls_ , you do not.”

They both laugh before Sammy remembers that he’s supposed to be being distant and depressed and leaving King Falls forever. That’s the magic of Ben – he can make Sammy feel like maybe not everything in his life is imploding in front of his eyes. It’s dangerous. Ben’s dangerous like Jack was – a comfortable sort of dangerous that Sammy needs in his life to breathe properly.

 “So,” Ben says, more hopeful and maybe even somewhere closer to happier. “The Office? How about it?”

Sammy hesitates, the idea of having to spend any more time in this emotionally jarring position too much for him. “I – next week. I’ll be there next week. I promise.”

Ben nods, his eyes full of grim determination. Sammy knows that he’s going to think of every possible way to get Sammy to stay between now and then, because that’s just who Ben is. Sammy can’t stay, he just can’t, but he wouldn’t change Ben’s persistence for anything.

“I’m holding you to that,” Ben smiles.

Sammy does his best to smile back.


End file.
